The right places.
The right paces.
The light paces.
The night tastes.
I.
The God lit paigambar.
He like the youth of lure sounds deaf tones of my love. In his heart.
In his way, he sounds life like Lycra.
In like of way! Love sounds blood like a Wayne, she sounds.
I.
The music sounds of theory and wellbeing of sea and regime in a member of life, one is God.
One is life, in a membrane of youth.
I.
The vehement dance of design in life.
I.
The wake of poems, in a dance state of way.
I.
Way of life.
Life of humdrum sea ballot.
I.
The lips sink, in summer balance of sneaking at places, I care to know about, in disdain and dance, there is a place of heart of everything, poem 1, Letters to Bangalore
Sunidhi
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